Believing Lies
by DianeB
Summary: An anguish-filled "missing scene" between Jed and Abbey during the S4 finale "Twenty Five," after their youngest daughter, Zoey, is abducted.


Title: Believing Lies  
Author: DianeB  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Jed/Abbey  
Spoilers: One line from "Twenty-Five," aired 5-14-03.

Summary: A short "scene-we-didn't-see."

Author's Note: Many thanks to Brenda S., my Mighty Editor Goddess, for her fair eye to grammar, etc., and to Amanda, for her equally fair eye toward the details of WW. Written May, 2003.

Disclaimer: I've been told my stories lack "protocol." While I appreciate the information, I can't imagine why it matters, considering, you know, they are works of fan fiction based on a fictional White House. Nevertheless, you have been cautioned. Still, let's not call it protocol-free, but rather protocol-lite.

* * *

"And Union Station, too?" Jed asked Mike. "We shut down Union Station?"

"Yes, sir."

Jed looked at Leo, but he didn't really see him. Too many thoughts, awful, horrible thoughts, were picking up speed in his brain, and he could barely focus. His refuge was not here. "I'm gonna check on Abbey." Without waiting to hear how much his leaving would upset the people in the room, he turned on his heel and left.

**oOo oOo oOo**

Someone in the room must have signaled the SS agent outside the door, because Jed didn't even have to ask.

"She's in her office, sir."

Jed nodded in appreciation and started briskly for the East Wing, the agent following a discreet distance behind him. Along the way, he tried without success to ignore the looks he was getting from nearly everyone he passed. Shock. Sadness. Pity. Anger. Nothing he cared to see, because he knew none of them were seeing the President anymore. They were seeing a father whose daughter had been abducted.

Well, that was the whole goddamn point, wasn't it?

**oOo oOo oOo**

Silently acknowledging the agent standing in the hallway (this one's Marty, he thought with some satisfaction at his recall), he stopped in Abbey's open doorway and studied her, all things fading but the sight of her. He hadn't yet decided whether or not he liked the new hair cut, and if he'd had to make the decision right at that moment, he would've said he hated it. Standing with her back to him in the middle of the room, arms folded protectively across her chest, Abbey looked as lost and forlorn as he felt. Not that the hair made any difference.

"Abbey."

She turned slowly to him, her face deathly white. "Jed. Jesus, Jed." She unfolded her arms and moved awkwardly toward him, as if she had forgotten how to walk, and he rushed quickly to her, because it soon became evident that she was, indeed, about to collapse.

Christ, he thought with heat, what happened after the Earth stopped turning and he was abruptly removed from a pleasant evening of reminiscing and joking about empty-nest problems? Did they just dump Abbey in her office and leave her here, alone? "C'mon, let's sit down." He guided her to the couch and pulled her into his arms. His anger searched around for an outlet, interrupted only by the feel of Abbey shaking, sobbing. Instinctively, he drew her closer and rocked her, murmuring words of comfort he hoped were not lies.

"It's all right, Abbey. Everything's going to be all right." Abbey's crying continued for a long while – deep, tormented sounds of the utterly bereft – and during the time Abbey wept, Josiah Bartlet, President of the United States, made one of the most stunning decisions of his career. It was the closest thing to tears he would allow himself.

**oOo oOo oOo**

He ventured to speak after another minute went by without the sound of her crying. "Liz and Ellie are okay, you know."

Her voice was muffled against his chest and thick with tears. "Yes, I know. Thank God." She pulled away from him and sat up, wiping ineffectively at her eyes. She stretched a hand to his shirtfront. "I've ruined your tie, I'm sorry."

He pulled the handkerchief from his pocket – the _real_ one, the one-hundred-percent bleached cotton one in his pants pocket – and shook it out. "Hey, don't worry about it. I've got ten more exactly like it upstairs." He dabbed tenderly at her eyes and nose. "There ya go." Then he recalled his anger. "What the hell happened after Leo took me away? Why are you here by yourself? Where'd everyone go?"

She took the hankie from him and smiled wearily. "My fault, I guess. I heard the glass breaking and looked around in time to see the look on your face before you disappeared. I knew it was bad, but, my God, Jed, something felt so…_personal_ about it, that it wasn't…wasn't a national security thing or even the MS. And I went numb. How did I know that?" She searched his face for an answer he did not need to provide, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't have clear memory of what happened after that. I-I remember…the guys came in, you know, Marty and Sam," she sniffled, trying without success to joke about the ubiquitous SS men who were part of their lives now, "and they led me out of the room. I figure our friends are somewhere in this godforsaken building, but I have no idea where. Marty told me that…Zoey…" And here she faltered, swallowing hard, "had been…taken…" She waved away Jed's attempt to comfort her again and continued, as if she wanted to get the words out before she forgot how. "I told Marty I wanted to come to my office." She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, her chin quivering. "It all sounds a little crazy, now that I hear myself, but Marty didn't argue. I was still trying to figure out what to do next when you showed up." She brought her eyes back to him. "What's next, Jed?" she whispered.

"Here's what's next, Abbey. I'm thinking of invoking the Twenty-Fifth Amendment."

She nodded but didn't seem surprised. Nothing new there, Jed thought with resignation. He never _could_ surprise her. He went ahead and explained why, just to fill up the quiet and because he didn't want to leave her yet. "Look at us. You're obviously in shock, and me? Well, let's not talk about me, shall we? All I know is we can't function like this. _I_ can't function. And you wouldn't believe the looks I got coming over here. Not a one of those people were seeing the President anymore, Abbey. They were seeing a father, and that's exactly what they _should_ be seeing. I can't run the country while Zoey is missing."

"When will you announce?"

"Tonight."

And then her anger flared, swiftly and brightly, and she gave the hankie a vicious twist. "God, Jed, remember our deal? That one about only running for one term? This would _never_ have happened if you'd—" She gasped and stopped abruptly, realizing what she was saying. In that instant, her features changed and her anger vanished. "Christ, Jed, I'm sorry. That was unfair."

Before Jed could do anything more than shift his position on the couch, she brushed her fingertips along his cheek.

"You probably need to see the doctor."

He sighed at the sorrow he saw in Abbey's eyes and at the godawfulness of this night, and brought his hand up to hers, noticing it was damp and too warm. She was probably running a fever, he thought, and then immediately dismissed that idea, knowing he wasn't kidding anyone. _He_ was probably the one with the fever. "Yeah, I know, but I'm trying to avoid that."

"What's going on," Abbey gestured with her chin towards the hallway, "out there?"

He brought their hands, together, to his lap. "City's shut down. Fitz wants to haul out the big guns, Nancy doesn't. Nancy's making sense, so is Fitz. And I'm not going to be able to make a decision that's not colored by the fact that my baby's life hangs in the balance."

She squeezed his hand. "Jesus, Jed."

"Yeah, Jesus or Somebody. Listen, I gotta go before Leo comes hunting me. You gonna be okay?"

"I think so. Amy's probably hunting me, too. I'm gonna stay here another minute, though, get myself together."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, the bitter taste of salt exploding on his tongue. Yes, he amended his earlier thought, she needed the doctor as badly as he did. "The city's shut down. They'll find her and she'll be okay."

"Yeah."

But he didn't guess she believed him any more than he believed himself.

When they stood, the hankie fluttered desolately to the floor.

End


End file.
